


What You See In Me

by MaliceManaged



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Acceptance, Artist Character, Banishment, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Just Add Kittens, Kittens Are Therapeutic, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Other, Powerless Loki, Prompt Fic, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliceManaged/pseuds/MaliceManaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friend sent me this prompt: <em>Muse A is a professional artist. Whenever they’re stuck in a bout of artist’s block, they spend however long they need sketching Muse B. Whatever Muse B is doing, A is sketching it. Does B find it annoying or endearing?</em> (I think it's from a tumblr post; I dunno.)</p><p>This is my first attempt to write a prompt-based fic, and I think I kinda ran away with it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You See In Me

    She was at it again, Loki noticed. Six months he’d been living with the petite midgardian woman, and she _still_ insisted upon this activity.

 

    He had been sent to live there as a form of punishment for his failed invasion, to teach him humility or some such thing, though Loki didn’t know what made Odin decide on that particular house with that particular mortal. At first he had behaved about as well as could be expected (i.e. not at all), but instead of being afraid, angry or even upset at him, his minder simply left his presence and locked herself up in what he later learned was her studio. Eventually, after realising he wasn’t going to get a reaction out of her Loki began to lash out less and less until stopping altogether and treating her with a sort of detached civility.

 

    It was then that he began to notice a most curious trend: Whenever she stepped away from her drawings and paintings in frustration, she tended to lurk around him, scribbling away on a book she always seemed to have with her. After a while he realised that the book was a sketchbook and she was drawing _him_. Hour after hour the red-haired creature sat a ways away from him and sketched whatever he happened to be doing, which was usually reading or looking out at the nearby shore since there wasn’t much else he could do without his powers that wouldn’t get him into _more_ trouble; her odd-coloured eyes (the left one brown and the right one green) darting from the page to him every so often.

 

    Now, after counting how many boats passed by (twelve), it finally occurred to him to look over at her and ask about it. “Why do you keep doing that? Why do you insist on drawing whatever menial activity I find to amuse myself with?”

 

    Lyra (which was her name; not that he’d ever bothered to use it) had started a bit at the sound of his voice and looked up at him from her page with an almost guilty expression. “It helps,” She muttered.

 

    “With what?” Loki asked; trying not to sound too curious, but genuinely wondering what _he_ could possibly be helping her with.

 

    “I get stuck sometimes; drawing you helps get the ideas flowing again,” Lyra replied with a small shrug.

 

    Loki wasn’t quite sure what to make of that reply, so he said nothing and went back to staring at the shore. After about ten minutes curiosity got the better of him and he turned back to her. “But why _me?_ Why not the shore, or that tiny feline of yours that insist on sleeping in my bed?”

 

    Lyra bit her bottom lip. “They don’t have what you have.”

 

    “And what would _that_ be?” Loki asked in a neutral voice.

 

    Lyra shrugged noncommittally in lieu of a reply then turned back to her sketch; after a while she seemed to have finished, and she stood and left the room, going back to her studio and locking the door behind her. Loki looked after her then turned back to the shore, resolving to find the answer one way or another.

 

 

    He waited until she was in the shower that night, silently making his way to the door of her studio. As he was picking the lock, Lyra’s cat - a four-month-old black and striped ginger chimera she’d come home with one day - came up to him and mewed to try and get his attention. He shooed the little beast away with a nudge of his foot, trying to concentrate on his task. He still didn’t understand why the kitten was so attached to him; while he had never been cruel to it, he wasn’t exactly very welcoming either.

 

    Finally the door was unlocked and he walked into the room intent on finding the sketchbook. It was then that he took his first look at Lyra’s work, as there were a few finished paintings hung up waiting to dry. He had to admit it was interesting; dark and some might even say depressing or unsettling, but with an undeniable beauty to it. Shaking his head a bit Loki focused on the sketchbook; finding it on a table in one corner of the room.

 

    As he flipped through page after page of himself Loki had to admire the little mortal’s skill; her every line had a near-flawlessness to it that came from natural talent and years of careful nurturing of her craft. After a while, though, he began to notice a pattern to the sketches; his expression, while thoughtful, had a bit of a melancholic quality to it. He looked at the rest of the drawings but found that all of them where the same. A strange feeling fluttered within his breast and he slammed the book shut, turned around and walked out of the room with purpose to his steps.

 

 

    Lyra had just barely finished pulling her pyjama shirt down all the way when Loki barged into her room, causing a startled gasp to pass her lips. She noticed he had her sketchbook in his hand and felt a flash of both anger at his invasion of her privacy and fear at the fact that he had seen the drawings. If she had learned anything about Loki in the time he’d lived with her, it was that he was very observant; she was sure he’d notice the recurring theme in all her sketches of him, and doubted he’d like it.

 

    Loki froze for a moment and couldn’t help but stare; he had never seen her in her sleep clothes before, and they left very little to the imagination of one such as him. He blinked then held out the sketchbook. “What is the meaning of this?” He demanded.

 

    “What the hell were you doing in my studio?” Lyra fired back as she wrapped her arms over her chest, all too aware that he’d been staring and why.

 

    “Answer my question, mortal!” Loki snapped.

 

    “You know, I have a name; it wouldn’t kill you to use it!” Lyra retorted angrily, taking him aback.

 

    That was the first time he ever saw her get angry. It was... strangely upsetting. Shaking away the thought he huffed then tossed the sketchbook onto her bed and left, suddenly feeling the need to be away from her. Lyra glared at the doorway for a while then walked over to close the door. She went to her bed, moved the sketchbook to her bedside table, and then turned the lights off and settled down to sleep; figuring Loki would likely bring up the subject again soon.

 

    In his room, Loki had readied for bed and lay staring at the ceiling, wondering what in the Nine was wrong with him. He didn’t give a damn about others’ feelings; so why did it bother him to see Lyra angry? Especially considering the fact that he’d spent almost half his stay in her home trying to elicit that very same reaction?

 

    Alright; he could admit that her usual quiet calmness was... not unpleasant to be around, but that was it.

 

    He heard a soft mewl and then the kitten - who he realised he didn’t even know what gender it was, let alone if it had a name - jumped onto the bed and curled up nestled against his side as it did every night. He looked at it for a moment then reached down and picked it up; settling it on his chest and petting it absently, finding its responding purrs oddly satisfying.

 

    “I must be going mad,” He said aloud to no one in particular.

 

 

    The next morning when Loki walked into the kitchen/dining room Lyra was already there, drinking a cup of coffee and eating a raspberry danish. He walked past her, fixed himself a bowl of cereal and sat down across from her to eat, neither of them looking at the other.

 

    After they finished eating they sat there in silence for a while then Loki looked at her. “Do I really look like that?” He asked softly.

 

    “Only when you get lost in thought enough to forget not to.”

 

    Loki looked away with mixed feelings then he heard a mewl at his feet and looked down at the kitten, who was pawing at his leg and trying to climb it. “Why does this little creature insist on being all over me?” He asked bemusedly.

 

    “Because she likes you.” Lyra replied; trying and failing to suppress a smile at the sight of the confused god.

 

    Loki narrowed his eyes at the kitten then bent over and picked it (her?) up, setting it on the table in front of him. “You’re not very bright, then; are you?” He commented to it.

 

    “Or maybe she knows something you don’t,” Lyra said knowingly; fighting back the urge she had to get her sketchbook and draw the scene in front of her.

 

    Loki looked up at Lyra, schooling his expression into blankness. “Like?”

 

    “Animals and kids tend to know when one needs company,” Lyra replied carefully.

 

    “You presume much...” Loki caught himself just before saying ‘mortal’, not wanting a repeat of the previous night, and instead said for the first time, “Lyra.”

 

    “Or maybe I know loneliness when I see it... Loki.”

 

    Loki’s lip twitched slightly as he suppressed the smile that threatened to form at her subtle acknowledgement of his concession, and he turned his attention to the kitten, scratching behind her ear. “What is her name?” He asked after a while.

 

    “You tell me; she’s clearly yours,” Lyra replied with a slight giggle.

 

    Loki narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment. “Dagný.”

 

    Lyra smiled. “Dagný it is, then.”

 

 

    Two months later Loki was sitting out on the back deck of the house watching the sunset, a contentedly purring Dagný on his lap as he pet her; when he felt eyes on him. He turned his head and then rolled his eyes, a small smile forming on his lips all the same, when he saw that she was at it _again_.

 

    “Truly, Lyra; have you no other subjects to help you out of your creative slump?” He asked as he turned his attention back to the horizon.

 

    “They don’t have what you have.” Lyra said; a smile on her face.

 

    “And what would that be?” Loki asked, not really expecting an answer, as she had yet to give one.

 

    Lyra moved to sit next to him, placing the sketchbook on the deck beside her, and then kissed Loki’s cheek. “My undivided attention.”

 

    Loki looked at her for a moment, stunned, then his eyes wandered to the sketchbook. Lyra picked it up, opened it to the page she had been working on and showed it to him. He took the sketchbook, Dagný moving off his lap as he did so, and examined it; noticing how much more tranquil his expression seemed. He set the book down and looked back at Lyra, his gaze wavering between her eyes and her lips, then made a decision, leaned down and kissed her.

**Author's Note:**

> The name Dagný is derived from the Old Norse elements _dagr_ (day) and _ný_ (new).
> 
> If you want an idea of what Dagný looks like (and what she'll look like as she gets older) google 'chimera cat venus' and prepare for an overdose of cute.


End file.
